Could've Been Me
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: Derek Morgan had broken up with Penelope Garcia because he hadn't wanted to get married. Now, a year and a half later, he shows up at the church where she's about to marry another man to break up her wedding. Instead, all hell breaks loose.
1. Prologue

"Just…give me a few minutes," Penelope said quietly, making her way back to the room at the church that she'd used to get ready for her wedding. She closed the door behind her and put her hand on her stomach, taking deep breaths. Derek wasn't here. And Penelope knew she shouldn't be thinking about that, but she couldn't help it.

"Hey," came his unmistakable voice. It was as if she'd conjured him from her thoughts.

But still, she felt like she'd jumped out of her skin and her hand flew to her throat in surprise. "Derek," she said breathlessly, her eyes flying to the chair near the window. "How did you—"

"You really think I couldn't get in here if I wanted to?"

"I didn't realize you _wanted_ to. You really shouldn't be in here."

"What are you _doin'_, baby girl?" he asked as he stood.

"Don't call me that," she told him.

"Are you marrying him to punish me?" he asked.

She laughed bitterly. "Punish you for _what?_ You didn't _want_ me, remember? We split up because—how did you word it, Derek? You'd met your '_Penelope_ Point?'"

"Maybe I was just scared," he said.

"Maybe you were. But I don't care anymore," she lied. "It's been a _year_ and a _half_. What you do…that's your business, Derek. It doesn't concern me. It hasn't for a long time."

"He's cheating on you," Derek said.

"You're lying!" she spat.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't do that to you," he said softly.

"Do you have proof?" she asked, hoping he didn't. But she knew better.

He held out the file in his hand that she hadn't noticed before.

She took it and flipped it open, an 8 x 10 of her fiancé with a woman she recognized from his office was staring her in the face. He was wearing a shirt she'd bought him less than a month ago, so she couldn't question its authenticity. And they were kissing.

She choked on a sob. "Why would you do this to me?" she asked.

"To save you from a life of lies," he told her.

Her eyes filled with tears—angry tears—and she threw the file at him. In true Derek Morgan style, he caught it effortlessly.

"How long have you known?" she asked, looking away.

"A few months," he admitted.

"_A few months?" _she said shrilly. "A few months. And you waited until my wedding day to tell me?" she asked.

"Penelope," he said, reaching for her.

She shrunk back as if he was going to hurt her—he suspected he already had. "Don't you touch me!" she said angrily. She pointed to the door. "Get out!"

"Penelope," he said softly.

She turned around and grabbed the first thing she saw—a lamp on the side table. One solid yank and it came unplugged from the wall. She threw it at Derek—her aim was right on, he had to duck to miss it. It broke the window and fell to the floor.

"What in the _hell_ are you doing?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Trying to get you the hell out of here!" she yelled.

The door flew open and JJ and Emily burst in wearing their bridesmaids' dresses, guns drawn.

JJ sighed in relief at the sight of Derek, her hands falling to her sides.

Prentiss aimed her gun at him. "_What_ are you doing here?" she asked angrily. Their work relationship was one thing, but he'd broken her friends heart, and that was something that nixed a personal relationship altogether.

"I just—"

"The wedding's off," Penelope said miserably, plopping into the chair behind her.

Emily and JJ exchanged a glance.

"Penelope," Emily said softly.

Penelope lifted her eyes to JJ. "Isn't this right up your alley?" she asked.

JJ nodded. "I'll take care of it," she said softly, leaving the room.

"Derek, you need to leave," Emily said. Her gun hadn't moved.

Derek didn't say anything, just nodded. He walked over to Penelope and knelt down in front of her. "I'm sorry for this," he said. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you, and I had hoped you'd find out before now. That's why I waited." He gave her a sad smile. "I wish...things could have been different for us," he said.

Her eyes—full of doubt—lifted to his.

"As it turns out we both wanted the same thing," he informed her.

"Yeah? And what's that, Derek?" she asked bitterly.

"For you to be happy," he said softly.

She glared at him. "Well, I think this certainly did the trick, don't you?" she said after a moment.


	2. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: FYI--I changed the name for this story. It was formerly I Object, but I was never crazy about it. I couldn't think of anything else; but now that I have, it's gonna be Could've Been Me. Enjoy!_

"It sucks that he cheated on her, but I'm not gonna lie. I loved being able to draw my gun. Especially when I got to aim it at Derek," Emily said with a grin. "It made me feel like one of Charlie's Angels."

"Would you please focus?" JJ hissed as the guests made their way out of the church.

"On _what_?"

JJ sighed. "You need to talk to Hotch about getting the next two weeks off," she said, the wheels in her head already turning.

"What?" Emily practically shouted. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

JJ sighed again. "You're gonna have to take an emergency leave," she whispered.

"I…can't just…go on leave," Emily sputtered.

"Emily! She is about to go on her honeymoon. _Alone_. Do you have any idea what that will do to her?"

Emily groaned. "JJ—"

"Fine. I'll go," she said.

"You know you can't leave Henry," Emily said.

"Henry will be fine with Will," JJ said. "Much better off than Penelope will be alone."

Emily sighed, patting her friend on the back. "You're a great communications director, JJ. You talked me right into it."

JJ nodded with a sigh. "Good."

___

Derek walked into his house but didn't bother to turn on the lights. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, then made his way to the couch and sat down.

He hadn't been prepared to see her in her gown. On anyone else, it probably would have just been another wedding dress. But on Penelope, the white material had practically glowed. She was _made_ to be a bride. Her hair had been up—he preferred it down—but she'd been stunning nonetheless.

He hadn't meant to tell her. He'd found out that Rick was cheating on her a few months ago. Derek didn't know how to explain it—he had absolutely no right to interfere in her life—but he'd tailed the bastard anyway. The truth was he'd broken up with Penelope because marriage just wasn't his thing, and she'd been up front about the fact that she _wanted_ to get married one day. He'd never thought about it much before—but until Penelope Garcia, love hadn't been 'his thing' either. And what shook him most was that seeing her in that little room in the upstairs of the church all ready to walk down the aisle—the only thing he could think was that she should have been marrying _him_.

___

_Two weeks later…_

"She looks great," JJ said as she watched Penelope make her way to her office. It was her first day back from 'vacation.'

Emily nodded. "She should. She was in the bar every night dancing 'til dawn."

"And she slept OK?"

Emily shrugged. "I guess so."

"What do you mean, 'you guess so?' Wasn't there just one suite?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, but do you have any idea how many hot, hard bodied men are in Barbados? I didn't spend _one_ night in our room."

JJ's eyes narrowed. "You are kidding me."

"Nope." She grinned. "And Penelope—" She looked around. "Made a _friend_, too."

"She slept with someone?" JJ asked in surprise.

"Isn't it great?"

"No, it's not great! She can't…slut around because her heart is broken."

"JJ, Penelope's heart has been broken for a long time. _Rick_ didn't break her heart. I don't think she ever even loved him. _Derek_ broke her heart. Again." Her eyes found him in the bullpen and she gave the back of his head a dirty look.

"Yes, well Derek didn't _make_ Rick cheat on her," JJ pointed out. "And have you even stopped to think about _why_ he was checking him out?"

Emily sighed. "I don't want to even go there."

"He still loves her," JJ said.

Emily gave her a look of disbelief. "Are you _kidding _me?" she asked. "A man who _loves_ you doesn't show up on your wedding day and drop a bomb into your lap!"

JJ shrugged. "Unless he can't stand the thought of you being married to someone else."

Emily shook her head. "That's funny," she said.

"What?" JJ asked.

"You think he still loves her, and I wonder if he ever _did_."

"Yeah? Well the next time they're in a room together, watch him. He barely takes his eyes off her, Emily."

Emily sighed. "You know what? I've had enough of Derek Morgan to last me a lifetime. Vacation's over, and I just want things to get back to normal." She looked around. "Where's Reid? I want to go flirt with him and watch him squirm painfully," she said with a grin.

"As long as you don't _sleep_ with him," JJ scoffed.

Emily lifted an eyebrow. "No promises," she said as she walked away.

___

"How are you doing?"

Penelope spun her chair around and looked up at her boss. "I'm good. You?"

I'm good," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. He studied her face for a moment. "Are you sure you're ready to be back to work?"

Penelope nodded. "Yeah," she assured him. "I'm fine, Hotch. But I appreciate your concern."

"If you need anything…"

Penelope smiled softly at him. "Thank-you," she said.

Hotch nodded awkwardly and then made his way out of her office.

___

Penelope's first week back at work had been uneventful as far as Derek Morgan went. The team had been called away mid-morning on Monday and hadn't returned until Thursday night. They'd spent the day Friday at a lecture, and Penelope had managed to make it out of the office before they'd come back. JJ had been calling nonstop while they were out on the road with a million excuses, but Penelope knew she was making sure she was OK, and then she'd texted her every time they'd had a break today. If the hovering didn't stop soon, she was going to scream. And to top it all off—she was horny as hell.

___

"Garcia," Derek said in surprise.

He was no more surprised than she was herself. But it was too late to change her mind now. She gave his door a solid shove and pushed past him, making her way into his house.

He stood there for a moment, stunned before closing the door and turning around.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, bracing himself for the anger that was sure to come.

"You owe me a night," she said.

"Ex…cuse...me?" he asked carefully.

"That's right. A night of sex. Hot, amazing, _steamy_ sex."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" he asked confused.

She took her coat off and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, then began to unbutton her shirt. "You know what I was looking _most_ forward to, Derek?"

He forced his eyes not to look at the navy blue bra that looked even darker next to her creamy colored skin. And the lace. He almost groaned. Lacey bras were so damn sexy. Especially on _her_. She pulled her shirt down off her shoulders, exposing even more of her skin. "What?" he asked with forced composure.

"The honeymoon sex. That's right. I couldn't wait to get laid. Rick decided about two weeks before our nuptials were to take place that we shouldn't sleep together until our honeymoon. And _you_ took that away from me. Well, I'm here to get it back."

"Penelope—"

"I don't need sweet nothings, I don't need you talk dirty to me—unless, of course, you want to—and I don't even need you to last that long as long as you make it good."

Derek sprung into action, making his way to Penelope before he could change his mind and say yes. He grabbed her shirt from her hands and tugged it back up over her shoulders, pulling it closed over her chest. "This isn't right," he said. He was clutching the shirt so hard, his knuckles were white. This might have been one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

"No, Derek," she said. "Do you know what's not right?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He was afraid to ask.

She told him anyway. "Emily was so damn horny for me to have sex in Barbados that I brought a man back to my room."

His expression must have been one of shock, because she confirmed it.

"That's right," she said. "But I didn't sleep with him. As soon as she was out of sight, I kicked him out of my room and spent the night alone. But here's the not right part. She came knocking on the door an hour later, and I had to make fake…_orgasm _noises to convince her that I wasn't alone." She gave him an urgent look. "_That's _not right. So either you can have sex with me _right_ now, or I'll go find someone who will!"

"You _wouldn't_," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I would," she said determinedly.

Derek didn't know whether to believe her or not. He'd like to think that it was something she wouldn't do, but he never would have predicted her showing up at his front door demanding sex, either. And to be honest, he found it pretty damn hot.

Well, if she was gonna get laid, anyway…


	3. Chapter 2

His lips came down onto hers, soft and gentle at first. But he hadn't had her in a year and a half, and he'd forgotten what she tasted like. As soon as he got a little tease, he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every area of her mouth. Her hands came to his shoulders, clinging to him tightly as if he were the only thing keeping her standing. When he felt her hands leave his shoulders and begin to unbuckle his pants, he forced himself to push her away.

"Penelope," he said softly. "Don't sleep with _me_ to get back at _him_."

She studied his face for a minute, and then continued to unbuckle his pants.

His hands came to her shoulders to still her. "If you really want to do this—"

"What I _really_ want," she said angrily, "is for all of this to go away. But that's not gonna happen. _You_ made sure of that. So I'm gonna settle for this." Her eyes locked on his—a defiance in them. She was still mad at him; it was crystal clear in her eyes. "Are you up for it or not?" she asked roughly.

He put his hand on hers, guiding it against his crotch in answer. He was rock hard. "Oh, yeah," he said huskily. "I'm up for it."

"Then _enough_…with the talking," she told him as she drew her hand back and pulled her shirt down off her shoulders.

Derek stepped forward and put his hands underneath her breasts and lifted them, his mouth coming down onto the exposed skin above the cup of her bra. Penelope threw her head back with a groan. She _knew_ what that mouth was capable of. She reached behind herself and quickly undid the clasp of her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms.

Derek grabbed at it and tossed it aside—out of his way. He was gonna nip at her breast, but he was so frantic, he thought maybe he'd bit her too hard. She substantiated _that_ when she jumped back. "Geez, Derek," she said breathlessly.

"Sorry," he said with a feeble grin.

"For God's sake, don't apologize, just…do it again," she demanded, stepping closer to him and grabbing his head. She directed it to the other side of her chest and his mouth was already open by the time it reached her breast. She swore she heard him growl. His tongue was hot and damp against her skin, his method rushed and chaotic. This was new for him—Derek had always been able to control himself.

She reached for his zipper and he moved his lower body away from hers to give her room. But instead of pulling his pants down as he expected, she tugged at the waistband of his boxer briefs and slid her hand inside, grasping his length.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and she heard him hiss. "Garcia," he said longingly. Reaching for his waistband, he pushed his boxers and pants down as far as he could without her having to move—about halfway down his thighs. When he'd freed himself, she pulled her hand away from him and licked her thumb, then reached for him again. She squeezed gently, then moved her thumb to his tip and began moving it slowly back and forth. "You're gonna get me off," he warned. Between her touch and the moist heat from her thumb, she was driving him wild.

Her eyes found his and she lifted an eyebrow. "And how long before you're hard again?" she asked.

He grinned sheepishly. "Ten seconds?" he guessed.

She nodded. "That's what I thought." She squeezed harder, and then began stroking him, slowly at first, then quickly. And all the while, her thumb was caressing his tip—she was the only woman he knew who could work his body so efficiently.

"OK," he said as his body shivered involuntarily. "Enough." He pushed her away and shed his pants, then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He stepped forward and in no time, her own jeans and panties had disappeared. In unison, they sank to their knees, Derek's mouth finding hers again on the way down. She moved forward on her knees, her breasts crushed against his chest. She could feel his erection against her belly, and she had all she could do not to reach for him again.

He leaned forward; she fell backwards. His hips were cradled between her thighs and she was desperate to have him inside of her. She lifted one hand to his shoulder and pushed him away, then reached down with the other. She grasped him again, guiding him to her opening. When he felt her heat, he thrust forward, then pulled back and thrust forward again and again. He had a hand on each side of her head, steadying his upper body as his lower body kept up its frenzied pace. He was like a man possessed, the only thing on his mind bringing them both to the edge.

She lifted her hips with each of his thrusts—their lower bodies slamming together in a familiar rhythm. She lifted her arms, her hands clasping together at the back of his neck; then lifted her legs, her ankles locking at his waist. She could feel her body temperature rising. "Derek," she whimpered.

"I know," he said, understanding her perfectly.

He felt her thighs tighten against his waist, and then his own body shuddered in release as he fell on top of her. "Oh, God," he said breathlessly. "Was it _always_ like that?" he asked.

"I think so," she said huskily. "It was just so long ago…"

Derek rolled off her, and lay beside her, an arm slung around her waist. He threw a leg over hers and began to absently stroke her belly. They lay there for a long time, neither one saying anything.

It was Penelope who finally spoke. She lifted a hand to her hair, running her fingers through it over and over again. "Why did you come to me on my wedding day?" she asked. It was odd; there was no accusation, just genuine curiosity.

Derek sighed. "I wasn't gonna come to you at all," he admitted.

"Why _did_ you?"

"If you knew what he did and still wanted to marry him, then that was your choice. But I couldn't know he was pulling one over on you, Penelope. I couldn't let him do that to you."

She looked up at him and swallowed past the lump in throat. "I knew," she said quietly.

"What?" Derek asked, as his hand froze. "You…you _knew_?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"And you were going to marry him anyway?" Derek asked incredulously.

Again, she nodded.

He rolled up onto his stomach and looked down at her. "Why?"

"Because he took care of me," she answered honestly. She hadn't told Emily or JJ any of this—and she hadn't planned on telling Derek. But it had always been so easy for her to talk to him. "And because he made me feel safe."

"Did you love him?" Derek asked.

"No," she said. "I didn't love him. But I was OK with that."

"You wanted to marry someone you didn't love?"

"No," she said firmly. "I wanted to marry someone I _loved_, but he didn't want to marry me."

Derek didn't say anything.

"So I was willing to settle for less."

Penelope leaned up and kissed Derek on the cheek. "Thanks for tonight," she said, smiling softly. "You were…amazing. Just like I knew you would be."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home," she said, standing up.

His hand shot out and seized her ankle. "Why?"

She laughed as she looked down at him. "Because I got what I wanted," she teased.

He gave her a stern look.

"Because this isn't a sleepover, Derek. It was…a one time thing."

"That we've done a million times before," he reminded her.

She laughed nervously. "Never like this."

He knew she wasn't talking about how incredible it had been—because it had _always_ been like that. She was talking about the fact that they'd never been together outside of a relationship. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He just leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her ankle, then watched as she got dressed and then walked out of his front door with a small wave.


	4. Chapter 3

Derek walked into work Monday morning at a leisurely pace. He had his hands in his pockets, and he was looking down at his feet. Friday night with Penelope had been…fantastic. It had brought back a lot of old memories. He'd forgotten how much he liked being with her—not just in the bedroom, but out of it, too. He'd been drawn to her from the moment they'd met—her lighthearted personality and the glow in her eyes; he hadn't been able to stay away from her. She'd tried to keep things professional, but he'd eventually worn her down with his charm and convinced her to go out with him. They'd moved in together two weeks after their first date.

Had she not shown up at his door, he might have been OK…maybe. But she _had_ shown up. And after her confession, he'd spent the weekend miserable. _I wanted to marry someone I __**love**__, but he didn't want to marry me. _It was one thing to break her heart--that could mend; but it was another to crush all of her hopes and dreams. For God's sake, she was gonna marry a man she didn't even love because she thought…he didn't know _what _the hell she thought. That she was never going to find someone who loved her, he guessed.

He nodded at the security guard as he scanned his badge and walked into the building, slowly making his way to the elevator. He pushed the button that would take him to the BAU, then rubbed a hand over his face as the doors closed. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh. When the doors opened, he headed straight for her office. He reached the door, pushed it open and made his way in.

"Hey," she said.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked as he pulled a chair out and turned it around, then sat down, straddling it.

She turned to him and grinned. "You think I don't know your cologne?" she asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows, a frown on his face. This was the closest thing to friends they'd been since they broke up.

When he didn't say anything, she turned to look at him. Her smile disappeared and she looked him up and down. "What in the hell happened to you?" she asked as she took in the sight of him. Even on his dark skin, she could see the circles under his eyes.

He didn't say anything, just studied her face for a minute. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Penelope...I'm sorry," he said softly.

She grinned at him. "Are you losing sleep over _that_?" she asked. "Really, Derek. There's no need. I showed up on your doorstep and practically _forced _myself on you."

He shook his head. "I'm not sorry for _that_," he said.

"Then…what are you sorry for?" she asked, confused.

"Everything else," he said sincerely.

She turned to fully face him. "What's going on, Derek?" she asked angrily. "Did you…have an attack of conscience?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Yes, well, if you had had it when we were still together, it would have meant a hell of a lot more than it does now!"

"I was a dick," he said.

"Yes, you were," she hissed. "And you're being one now! _Why_ are you bringing this up?"

He cleared his throat. "I thought that when things were over with us…I was done hurting you. And then…all this shit happened with Rick. And I had to break your heart again."

"You didn't _have_ to do anything," she disagreed. "You could have just let me marry him!"

"And then what, Garcia? You could have lived a life with a husband who wasn't gonna be faithful to you?"

She laughed bitterly. "I was no less happy _with_ him than I was with_out_ you," she informed him. "And at least I wasn't _alone_, Derek. I wasn't being led on; I wasn't living a life of happiness only to have it ripped out from underneath me! Do you know how _fuckin'_ hard it is to be alone once you've been happy?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I know exactly how hard it is, Penelope."

"No, you don't!"

"_Yes_, I do," he said firmly.

She looked up at the ceiling then took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. When she brought her head back down, Derek's eyes were glued to her.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to come to you and tell you that?" he asked.

Her jaw dropped, and she tried to think of something to say, but she was at a loss for words. It was a few moments before she could speak again. "You broke my heart, Derek," she told him. "You broke up with me, and you broke my heart. And apparently, it was so much _fun_, you did it again!"

He didn't defend himself, just sat there looking at her. His gaze was making her extremely uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Don't be sorry!" she said shrilly. "Just…don't be _here._" She stood up and he grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry," he said again in the same soft tone.

It was so heartfelt, she was afraid she was going to break again. His eyes never left her face—she felt like he was staring into her soul. And the _look_ in his eyes…it was almost tortured. She had to look away so she wouldn't fall for whatever line he was going to feed her.

"Penelope," he said firmly.

"Don't _do_ this," she begged. "You…you're feeling sorry for me. For what just happened to me," she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. "You just…you think you can make everything better with words, Derek, but you can't!" She took a deep breath, and her eyes filled with tears. Her voice was raspy. "Do you know what I wanted? When I saw you sitting there in that little room of the church?"

He shook his head.

"I wanted…" She choked back a sob. "I wanted you to be there…because you wanted me to marry _you_. I wanted you to _beg_ me not to marry him, Derek! I wanted to walk down that aisle, and have _you_ waiting for me!"

She watched as he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"And when I came to see you the other night, I _wanted_ you to ask me to stay. I wanted you to jump up and run after me, and tell me you couldn't live without me! Because for God's sake, Derek, I can't live without you!" she yelled. She hadn't meant to say the words, but she'd kept her mouth shut for so long that she couldn't bring herself to regret them, either.

She looked at his face and could tell she'd stunned him. For the last year and a half, she'd given him nothing but the cold shoulder—of course he hadn't known how she felt.

She shook her head, and then walked out of her office, wiping at the mascara she was sure was on her cheeks from the dampness of the few tears that had managed to escaped. "Dammitt," she said angrily. "I _hate_ Mondays."


	5. Alternate Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I wrote a chapter 3 before the one I actually posted. I decided to scrap it and start over, but I thought you might be interested in reading the original. I felt like it just didn't reflect on Derek very well, and that it made him appear weak. I also felt that it made him even more 'dislikable.' And at this point in the story, there are enough reasons not to like Derek without adding to the pot. So, anyway, if you'd like to read it, here it is. The next chapter, however, will pick up where the last one left off. It will be as though this one never happened. If you decide not to read it, you're not missing anything. If you _do _decide to read it--e_njoy_!_

"And you watched her walk out? Without a word?" Jesse asked incredulously. "Dude, that was stupid!"

"What do _you_ know from stupid?" Derek asked. "You're almost 40, you just moved back in with your parents…" He leaned over the mattress and peeked at the lower one. "_And_…you're still afraid of the top bunk!"

"Dude," Jesse said. "Don't do that! It freaks me out!"

Derek chuckled as he pulled his body back up onto the top bunk. "I know," he said. "Why do you think I do it?" Jesse had lived down the street from Derek for as long as he could remember. They'd been best friends since junior high. He was the brother Derek had never had.

"So are you gonna tell me what happened with you and Jazzy?" Derek asked.

Jesse sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Don't _make_ me hang over the side of this top bunk again," Derek threatened. "You made me spill all my shit, now it's your turn."

"She cheated on me," Jesse said.

"What?!" Derek asked.

"Jasmine cheated on me," Jesse repeated.

Derek swung his legs over the top bunk and jumped down, then sat down in the chair next to the bunk beds. "She _cheated_ on you?"

Jesse nodded. "Yeah. I came home from work to surprise her for lunch—it was our anniversary. And she was fucking him right on the living room carpet. And you know what _really_ sucks?" Jesse asked.

"What?" Derek asked.

"I worked so much overtime for that damn carpet because she just _had _to have it. If I'd known she was gonna be bangin' someone else on it, I wouldn't have fuckin' bought it."

"Bitch," Derek said angrily.

Jesse laughed. "I'm thinking a four letter word that starts with a C."

"If she'd been my wife, I probably would be, too," he said. And then, "See? Aren't you glad I'm not married?"

"Why would I be glad you're not married?" Jesse asked confused.

"Because marriage sucks," Derek said. "Someone either ends up dying or cheating, and then it's a big old mess."

Jesse sat up on the side of the bed. "Marriage doesn't suck," he argued. "Being cheated on sucked, yeah. But when we got along, marriage was great. We got married for all the wrong reasons, Derek."

"Why did you get married?" Derek asked curiously.

"Because the sex was hot," Jesse said. "I mean…_really_ hot. But once we got out of bed…we just didn't have anything in common. We couldn't see that because we were too young." He shrugged. "I should have known better. The only thing that surprises me…is that we stuck it out for as long as we did."

"I'm sorry, Jesse," Derek said.

"You shouldn't be," Jesse said. "I'm just glad we didn't have kids."

"Would you do it again?"

"Get married?"

Derek nodded.

"Hell, yeah," Jesse said. "And I plan to. But this time, I'm gonna get married for all the _right _reasons."

Derek didn't say anything, just sat there in silence.

"Hey, here's a question for you. Why did you have to come all the way to Chicago to talk to someone about this? Don't you have any friends in Virginia?" Jesse taunted.

Derek frowned. "No. Hotch—my boss—isn't an option. And Reid…well, he's Reid. And all the women hate me for breaking Penelope's heart."

Jesse laughed. "A world where the ladies aren't givin' in to Derek Morgan. Now _that's_ a world I'd like to live in!"

___

"Where's Derek?" Penelope asked casually as casually as she could the next Monday.

Prentiss looked up from the file she was studying. "Chicago."

"Right," Penelope said quietly. "For Fran's birthday."

"What?"

Penelope sighed. "It's just…he goes home every year for his mom's birthday. I forgot about that."

Prentiss threw the file down on her desk. "You OK?" she asked.

Penelope nodded.

"Do we need to get you laid again?" Prentiss teased.

Penelope's eyes flew to Prentiss'. "How did you know?" she asked in disbelief.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Because I could hear you moaning when I was in the hallway," she reminded her friend.

"Oh," Penelope said in relief. "Right." Thank _God._ She thought Emily knew she'd slept with Derek, and the questions that would come from _that_…well, Penelope was sure she couldn't handle it. "I'm just gonna…go back to my office now." She turned to flee. But she wasn't quick enough.

"What aren't you telling me?" Prentiss asked.

Penelope turned back around. "Nothing," she lied.

Prentiss gave her a stern look. "Then why are you fidgeting?"

"Have I ever told you how much I _hate _profilers?" Penelope snapped.

Emily grinned. "A time or two," she returned. "And stop trying to change the subject. What's going on?"

Penelope sighed. "Residual grief, I guess."

Prentiss smiled softly at her friend. "Missing Rick?"

"Derek, actually," Penelope admitted.

Her friend nodded. "It's gonna be a looong week if you're missing him already."

It was so much more than him being gone this week, but she wasn't about to explain that to Prentiss. "I have to…go back to work," she said, heading for her office.

___

"Why in the hell aren't we throwing a _football_ back and forth?" Derek asked as he tossed the softball back to his younger sister.

She grinned at him as she caught the ball. "Because the last time we did _that_, I was ten; you were sixteen. And when you decided it would be fun to tackle me, I ended up with a broken clavicle," she reminded him.

He grinned at the memory. "Oh, yeah. That was a fun day."

Desiree snorted. "For _you,_" she said.

Derek laughed as he caught the softball again. They threw the ball in silence for a few minutes. "Why aren't you married?" he finally asked.

Desiree froze in surprise. "Whoa," she said. "Nosey much?"

"Just curious," Derek said. "Don't you think it's odd that not _one_ of us is married?"

Desiree shrugged. "Not really."

"It's like we're all afraid to get married."

"What?" his sister asked in disbelief.

"That there a million things that could go wrong," he concluded.

Desiree stood there studying her brothers' face for a moment. "I'm not married because I haven't fallen in love yet. And Sarah's concentrating on getting her masters. Don't drag _us_ into your issues," she said with a laugh. "We have plenty of our own. Is that why _you're _not married?"

Derek shrugged. "There are no happy endings, Des."

"What about all the things that could go _right_?" she pressed.

Derek didn't say anything.

Desiree smiled sadly. "It's really sad that you think that. I…" She sighed in disbelief. "Don't you remember how happy mom and dad were?" she asked.

"Yeah, 'til he died," Derek said.

"Yeah, until he died," she repeated. "But…do you think mom would have traded one second of their life together even if she knew how it was going to end?"

Derek stood there for a moment. The question was one that had never crossed his mind. "No," he said honestly.

"That's right," Desiree said, and then shrugged. "I'm not married because I haven't found that yet." She dropped the football and put her hands in her back pockets, standing there studying him for a moment. "We thought _you_ had," she said quietly.

"With Penelope."

Desiree nodded. "Yeah. What _happened_, Derek?"

"I couldn't do it, Des," he said.

"Why not?"

"Everything was perfect."

She looked at him in confusion.

"I didn't deserve it, Des."

Desiree laughed in disbelief. "Perfection doesn't just happen, Derek. It's something you work long and hard for. If you're lucky enough to get it, then you _do_ deserve it!"

He didn't say anything, just stood there for a minute.

Desiree walked over to him and smacked him on the back of his head.

"Boys are so dumb!" she said as she stomped off.


	6. Chapter 4

After their conversation, Penelope knew she had to do _something. _So she walked across the bullpen and up the steps to the level that sat just a little higher than the rest of the floor until she stood in front of Hotch's office. She took a deep breath, then knocked on his door.

"Come in," he called.

She pushed the door open, stepped in, and then closed it behind her.

Hotch knew something was off immediately. Aside from the fact that her body language screamed devastated, she _never_ came to his office. "Have a seat," he said.

She pursed her lips as she shook her head. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment to gain her composure before coming to face him again.

"When I got back from…" She laughed bitterly. "What was supposed to be my honeymoon, you asked if I was OK."

Hotch nodded. "I remember," he said softly.

She cleared her throat. "I'm not. OK—I mean. I'm not OK." Her voice was shaky.

"What do you need, Garcia?" he asked gently.

"Umm…time. I need some time. Away from…_here_. Away from…" She'd almost said Derek, but stopped herself. "Everything," she said instead.

Hotch stood up and walked around his desk, putting a hand on Penelope's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anymore than that. I trust your judgment, Penelope," he said sincerely.

"Thank-you," she said quietly, her voice almost breaking. Hotch never called her Penelope. "I have a few things that I'm working on. They'll take me a little while to finish up, and then I'll leave."

Hotch nodded. "Any plans on where you're going?" he asked.

"Yes."

___

Penelope made her flight arrangements; she'd be leaving Thursday morning. But first she had things around the house she wanted to do. And she was going to take two days to make sure it got done. Since getting back from her 'honeymoon,' she'd been wallowing. It had been fine for a little while, but Penelope decided it was time for it to come to a stop. When she came back, she wanted to come home to a clean house with a fresh mindset. She still had things of Rick's lying around. And for that matter, she still had a shirt of Derek's that he'd left behind. That she'd never washed. She suddenly wanted to burn the damn thing. Unfortunately, the trash would have to do.

What she _really_ needed was a fresh start—away from Derek, away from the church where she'd almost made—arguably—the biggest mistake of her life, and away from the whispers at the bureau. Her friends were protective and did what they could to discourage the murmurs, but they couldn't stop them all.

Penelope sighed as she fell into bed Tuesday night. It was quite a drive to the airport, so she'd be leaving tomorrow night. She'd spend the night at a hotel, then drive to the airport Thursday morning, park her car, and take off from there.

___

When Penelope left work on Monday, he felt like maybe he'd pushed too hard. When she didn't show up on Tuesday, Derek felt an incredible amount of guilt.

So he'd driven by that night; her lights were on and he could see her through the kitchen window. That made him feel a _little_ better.

But when she didn't show up on Wednesday, he was a nervous wreck. All he'd wanted to do was go to her, pound on her door, and force her to let him in. But he knew Penelope—and that would just infuriate her.

But he couldn't just let it go. So tonight—after he taught his self defense class—he was going to stop by to see if she needed anything. He felt better at the thought of seeing her with his own eyes.

That night, as Derek sat in his vehicle outside of her apartment, he was in a panic. The lights were out, her car was gone, and there was an insane amount of trash by the curb. Where in the _hell_ was she?

___

Derek spent a sleepless night, which was spent examining his part in the mess that was Penelope's life. She'd wanted to marry him; he'd made it clear that marriage wasn't in the cards for him. But she'd stayed with him anyway, until _he'd_ eventually broken up with her. He figured she was waiting him out, hoping that he'd decide he _did_ want to get married and then they'd live—well, _mostly_ happily ever after.

And he'd been afraid that if he was with her long enough, he _would_ want to marry her. So he'd done what Derek Morgan did best when it came to relationships—he jumped ship. And not for the first time. Whenever he'd gotten too close to _any_ woman, he'd cut and run. But with Penelope, he'd fallen in love; and he'd stayed. That had been a first for him. And it had scared the hell out of him. Because what if this was a long line of 'firsts?' Maybe he'd want to marry her one day—_that_ would certainly be a first. And what if—God forbid—he decided he wanted to have kids with her—another first. At the time, it had overwhelmed him and the fear had made him push her away.

But now…the thought of marrying Penelope, and having kids with her…it didn't seem all that bad. In fact, it sounded pretty damn good.

___

When he walked into work the next morning, he headed straight for Hotch's office—if anyone knew what was going on, it would be him. He pounded on the door and didn't wait for an invitation, just walked in.

Hotch looked up at him. "I'll have to call you back," he said to whoever was on the other end of the phone. After putting the receiver back in it's' cradle, he lifted his angry eyes to the young man standing in front of him. "Can I help you?" he asked crossly.

"Do you know where Garcia is?" he asked.

Hotch sighed. "Yes, I know where Penelope is," he said.

"Tell me where she is," Derek demanded.

Hotch stared at him for a minute. "Last time I checked, I was _your_ superior," he reminded Derek.

Derek ran a hand over his head. It was clear that he was worried, but Hotch wasn't at liberty to discuss another employees' personal information with _anyone_.

"I just need to know that she's OK," Derek said quietly.

"She's _not_ OK, Morgan," Hotch informed him. "And truthfully, I don't think she has been for a long time. I'm not exactly sure what part _you_ play in that, but from this display, I'm guessing it's pretty significant."

Derek sighed. "I need some time off," he finally said.

Hotch shook his head. "I won't authorize that."

"Then I'll go above you," Derek threatened.

"Don't make me pull rank here, Derek," Hotch said. "She left to get _away_ from you. The last thing she needs is for you to go trekking across the country to find her!"

"Across the country? So she went to California, then. To Preston's," Derek said.

Hotch sighed. _This_ was why he didn't like to get hot-headed. He always seemed to say the wrong thing. "Giver her some time, Derek."

"When is she coming back?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Hotch admitted.

___

Penelope was feeling pretty good as she walked off the plane. Apparently all she needed to get her life straightened out was a long flight alone with her thoughts—without Emily sitting beside her as if she were a chatterbox. This flight was way better than the one to Barbados.

She didn't _need_ to be married to Derek—or _any_ man for that matter. She'd been in love, and she'd been lucky. She had learned that it would only lead to heartbreak before she'd been settled down with anyone.

And as for kids—well she had that covered, too. She made good money where she was. She could certainly afford to adopt if she wanted to. And she made enough so that she wouldn't have to settle for just one child. She could afford to adopt two if she chose to, and it still wouldn't clear out her life savings. She'd be left with a pretty good nest egg.

So, yes. Penelope Garcia was feeling pretty damn good right about now.

And then she saw her brother, waving his arms so she could find him easily. She walked up to him, a big smile pasted on her face.

He grinned when she reached him. "Hey, Sweet P," Preston said softly.

And that was when she collapsed sobbing into his arms.


	7. Chapter 5

Prentiss sighed. "Morgan, you can hover all you want, but my answer will still be the same. I have _not_ talked to Penelope, and I don't know how she's doing," she said angrily. She was in the conference room using the table so she could spread out her paperwork and prioritize. She'd also been hoping for some privacy, but that wasn't likely to happen if Morgan didn't get the hell out of there.

But he wouldn't budge.

Prentiss sighed again. She did a lot of sighing when Derek was around. "I'm guessing she's not OK, or she wouldn't have skipped the state."

"My fault, I'm sure," he said sarcastically.

"Well, you _were_ the one who broke up her wedding," Prentiss reminded him.

"For good reason, Em! He was _cheating_ on her."

Prentiss almost flinched. Morgan hadn't called her Em since he and Penelope had split up. Any sign of friendship had been revoked when all hell had broken loose with Penelope and Derek's break up. "Which you knew for months and neglected to tell her," she said. "So, yeah, Morgan. I'm guessing she's pissed at you. But…that alone isn't enough to get her to skip out like this. There has to be more."

Derek took a deep breath. If he expected Prentiss to give him _any_ information at all, he was going to have to be straight with her. One of her strengths in the field was knowing when someone was lying or withholding information. The last thing he wanted was for her to know he was holding something back. "She…came to my house when you guys got back from her honeymoon," he said.

"For what?" Prentiss asked.

He sighed. "We ended up…in bed," he muttered. He didn't want to tell Prentiss that that was what Penelope had shown up for. He was afraid it wouldn't paint her in a very good light. He sent up a silent prayer that Prentiss wouldn't kill him.

"You…" He watched as she worked to control her temper. "You slept with her?" she hissed.

"Yes, Prentiss. I slept with her, OK?" he said. "Now you know everything."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," she disagreed. "Why would you fall into bed with her after she's _finally_ over you?" Prentiss asked.

"She's not _over_ me, Prentiss," he informed her. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "She never loved Rick," he went on to tell her. "She was marrying him because she didn't want to be alone. She was marrying him because _I_ wouldn't marry her."

Prentiss shook her head. "That is _some_ ego you have there, Derek Morgan," she said. "You have _really_ built yourself up in that head of yours, haven't you?"

"That came from her, Emily," he said. "I'm not making this up and it's not a guessing game." He took a deep breath. "She admitted it all to me. She even knew he was cheating on her."

Prentiss' eyes narrowed and she studied his face. "I don't believe you," she said. "Penelope wouldn't marry a man who was cheating on her. She's not that stupid."

"I fuckin' broke her!" he yelled.

Prentiss flew up out of her chair and slammed the conference room door, then leaned against it, eyes wide. "Morgan, what…"

"You should have seen her eyes, Emily." He shook his head. "When she left my house that night. They were…"

His voice trailed off, but Emily was hanging on his every word. This was the first time she'd heard Derek's side of anything, and while his break up with Penelope was long over and she'd probably never hear his side regarding _that_, she was surprised to find that she was curious as to why Derek Morgan was who he was.

Derek was still searching for the right word. "Empty," he finally said. "They were empty. I've never seen empty eyes on a living, breathing person before," he said quietly. It was a picture of Penelope that he didn't think he'd ever be able to get rid of.

Emily sighed. "Why are you telling me all of this?" she asked.

"Because I have to tell someone," he said. "I…"

Emily watched as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. She was surprised by his reaction to Penelope's absence. He may have broken Penelope, but _something_ sure as hell had broken him.

"I apologized to her," he said softly. "And she got…mad at me."

"Why?" Emily asked quietly.

"I think she…thinks it's too late," he said.

Prentiss tilted her head to the side. "Is it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

___

"You haven't said a word since we got in the car," Preston said when they'd been riding for a while.

"That's because I don't have a lot to say," she told him as she gazed out the window. "I mostly have thinking to do."

"Well, can you think out loud? Because I'd really like to know what the hell is going on with my baby sister," he said sternly.

"Things just aren't going my way right now," she admitted.

"Rick?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Derek, actually," she said.

"No shit?" Preston said.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "That's a gross expression," she told him.

"What do you mean, it's Derek?" Preston asked.

She sighed. "I don't think I ever got over him," she told her brother.

He turned to her, a big grin on his face. "Want me to fly to Quantico? Beat the bastard up?"

Penelope laughed at the absurdity of his comment. "No," she said firmly. "I think I'm going to play like an adult."

Preston raised his eyebrows. "And run?" he asked doubtfully.

She wrinkled her nose, and then turned to look out the window. "I think I liked you better when we had lots of states in between us," she muttered.

Her brother grinned at her again. "There's the Sweet P I know and kind-of love," he teased.

She studied his face for a minute. "I missed you, Pres," she said.

___

When they got to her brothers house, Penelope opened the door and stepped out of the car, the wind blowing in her hair. "The Santa Ana's?" she asked in surprise.

Preston nodded as he pulled her suitcase out of the back of his vehicle.

"They're late this year," she said, wrapping her arms around her midsection.

"Yeah," he agreed.

Penelope closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I love the Santa Ana's," she said softly.

She felt her brother's arm come around her shoulders and he gave her a soft kiss on the temple. "You always have," he said amused. "You and mom. I never _could_ figure out why you two were so crazy about the wind."

Penelope felt a lump swell in the back of her throat at the mention of her mother. She'd give just about anything to have her here with her right now.

"Are you coming?" Preston asked over his shoulder as he started towards the house with her suitcase.

She shook her head. "I think I'm gonna take a walk," she told him.

He nodded. "I'll see you in a bit."

Penelope smiled softly before heading for the beach.

___

Penelope strolled along the Pacific Ocean looking out at the waves. When she'd lived here, in California, things had seemed so complicated. But now, they seemed so calm. Away from work, away from Derek, and away from all of her problems.

But Penelope wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't run away from her problems, and that wasn't what she was trying to do. She'd been _trying_ to get over Derek for a long time—to no avail. The job made it difficult—it wasn't like they passed each other in the hallway once in a while. They worked in extremely close quarters—even when he was out in the field. For God's sake, there were times when his life had literally been in her hands. How was it even going to be possible for her to move on when she was worried about him every damn time the team went wheels up? She'd thought about transferring, but she loved her job. She felt like she was really making a difference in people's lives and she didn't want to have to give that up. And why should she?

And then there was the matter of Rick. How in the hell had she let things go so far with him? My God, had she really been willing to settle for _that_? When she'd been in the situation, it had seemed like the perfect solution. But now that she was out of it…she was pretty sure she'd gone a little mad.

She sighed as she turned around. One thing was for sure…she was never gonna be able to love another man after loving Derek Morgan. And where did that leave her?

Penelope looked up at the sky as her eyes filled with tears. "How did I let myself get so far gone, Mom?" she whispered.


	8. Chapter 6

"Preston, get your nose off the glass," Helena teased.

The sofa was against the wall, a picture window just above it. He was kneeling on the couch, looking at the view over the ocean. "She's been out there for almost two hours," he said worriedly.

"Has she moved?" Helena asked.

He nodded.

"Honey…then she's fine. She just needs some time alone."

"No, she doesn't," he argued. "She needs to come in and be with _us_."

Helena laughed. "I didn't know I married such a worry-wart," she teased. She walked over and sat down next to her husband, resting her head on the back of the couch so she could look up at him. "Preston, have you _never_ had your heart broken?" she asked softly.

He sighed as he turned around and sat down next to his wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Never," he confirmed.

"I don't know what happened, but…if she's here because her heart was broken, it was pretty bad, Preston. In all the years I've known her, Penelope has never run from something. So for her to do that…"

"I'll tell ya what," Preston said angrily. "I ever see that bastard in a dark alley, I'll kick his ass."

Helena threw her head back in laughter. "You will not," she told him.

"Oh, I will," Preston muttered.

"Preston Michael Garcia," she scolded. "That may be the _only_ man your sister ever loves. I forbid you to kick his ass."

Preston sighed. "Baby, you keep forbidding me to do stuff, and I'm not gonna have any fun," he whined.

"As your wife, it's my right to make you miserable." She laughed as she stood, then reached her hand out for his. "Let's go get supper started."

Preston groaned as he stood, then rested a hand on his wife's belly as he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. "How ya feeling?" he asked.

She grinned. "Plump."

"Lucky for you, I'm into plump."

___

"You look ready to pop!" Penelope said as she walked into the house a short while later.

Her sister in law grinned at her. "Is that a polite way of telling me I look fat?" she teased with a grin.

"You look _gorgeous_," Penelope told her as she gave her a hug.

"Thanks," Helena said with a laugh. "But I would have believed fat more."

"So when _are_ you due?" Penelope asked, changing the subject. Helena was far from fat.

"Three weeks to the day," Preston chimed in with a grin. "Two more Payton's and Preston's to run rampant."

Helena rolled her eyes. "We are _not_ naming them Payton and Preston."

Penelope laughed again, leaning her elbows on the butcher-block island. "What are you naming them?" she asked.

"We're still undecided," Helena said. "I like Andrew and Alec."

"And I like Harley and Davidson," Preston teased.

"Over my dead body," Penelope said.

"Thank-you!" Helena said, throwing her hands in the air.

"I like Alec. But I don't care for Andrew. I like Luke."

Helena grinned. "And I like it more every time he says it."

Ten years ago, you would never have been able to convince Penelope that her youngest brother would one day be an adoring husband. But the fact was staring her right in the face. As was the fact that he and his wife were experiencing their first pregnancy together. And while she certainly didn't begrudge them that, she _was_ envious. Her own biological clock had been ticking for some time now—another reason she supposed she'd been so quick to settle.

Penelope sighed as she forced herself to focus on the present—she needed to let the past go. And that included what had happened with Rick, and with Derek. Sitting out there on the cold beach, the Santa Ana's blowing in her face, she'd come to a realization. What had happened with her and Derek hadn't been entirely his fault. He'd been up front with her from the beginning. But she'd stuck around, hoping he'd change his mind. It was her own fault she'd fallen so hard for him.

___

Prentiss stood in front of the white board in the BAU room. "Let's go over this one more time," she said gravely. She picked up the dry erase marker and wrote on the board. "First—you broke up with her because you didn't want to get married."

Derek nodded, his hand clasped together on the table in front of him. "Right."

"Oh! Then she met Rick," Reid chimed in.

Prentiss wrote furiously. "OK," she said.

"Shortly thereafter, he proposed to her," JJ said.

"Right, right," Prentiss said. "And she accepted." Her eyes darkened. "Then Morgan broke up the wedding."

Derek sighed. "I thought we decided that was a good thing."

"It _is_," Prentiss said, not willing to let it go just yet. "But it would have been better if you hadn't waited until her wedding day to tell her Rick cheated on her."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Then you went on her honeymoon," he said.

Prentiss nodded. "Where she had rebound sex."

Derek forced himself not to say anything. Penelope had told him she hadn't sex in Barbados, but he wasn't about to share that information with the others. Emily was still a little miffed, and he didn't want her anger to be redirected towards Penelope. He'd take it on himself for as long as he needed to.

"Then she came home and…Derek seduced her," Emily concluded.

"I didn't seduce her!" he argued.

"Well, you sure as hell didn't push her away!"

"If you'd slept with her before, you wouldn't have pushed her away, either," Derek muttered.

"That good, huh?" JJ asked.

Derek nodded. "No comment," he said. He'd said enough.

"And then she left," Reid said. "Has anyone talked to Hotch yet?"

"He's not talking," Derek said.

"OK, so now that we have all the facts, it's time to make a plan," JJ said.

Prentiss put the marker down and took a seat at the table. "So, do you _have_ a plan?" she asked.

Derek shook his head. "Not yet. Hey," he said, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Why were you and JJ carrying guns at the wedding?"

"Will said it would make him hot to know that JJ was packing underneath her dress," Prentiss said.

"Emily!" JJ said, eyes wide.

"Oh, what? Like no one here has ever had sex before?" she said.

All eyes turned to Reid. "Two words, he said. "Lila. Archer."

Derek nodded. "Nice."

"Focus, please!" JJ said.

"She wasn't your first, was she?" Prentiss asked, ignoring JJ.

Reid shook his head. "Nope. And…no more questions," he said, his face darkening.

"Second?" Prentiss pressed.

"No more questions!" Reid said.

"But—"

He lifted his eyebrows. "You _wanna_ be the third?"

Prentiss' eyes widened and she turned to Derek. "OK, what's the plan?"

"I think I should go to California," he said.


End file.
